


A Sweet Gesture

by Anonymous



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Branding, Burnplay, Consensual Violence, M/M, Masochism, Punishment, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 13:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9731714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The fucker wassmokingin Jim’s house.He’d been warned. He’d been threatened. He’d been straight out ordered not to light up one of those nasty, smelly cancer sticks inside Jim’s home.And still, he did it anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 48, BBC, Moran/Moriarty

The fucker was _smoking_ in Jim’s house.

He’d been warned. He’d been threatened. He’d been straight out ordered not to light up one of those nasty, smelly cancer sticks inside Jim’s home.

And still, he did it anyway. One whiff was all it took for Jim when he walked in to know he’d been disobeyed.

Had it been anyone else taunting him like this, whether an employee, an ally or an enemy, either Jim’s gun would have come into play or Sebastian would have been given orders—which, really, amounted to the same thing. Sebastian was as much of a weapon as Jim’s favorite Glock.

Except that the Glock didn’t smoke and leave ashes all over Jim’s floors, and a nasty smell that took days to fade.

It didn’t take Jim long to find him in the master bedroom on the upper floor. He wasn’t just smoking in the house, he was smoking in Jim’s fucking bedroom. Now he was just asking for it. He’d opened the window and was standing there against the sill, the idiot, as though to hide what he was doing. All he’d done was let in a breeze that had carried the smell through the entire house.

“You’re early,” Sebastian said without looking back, blowing out another breath toward the sky.

Jim stepped in and closed the door behind him, locking it. They were alone right now, but should the nanny and James return, he didn’t want to be interrupted. This nanny wasn’t half bad, and he didn’t want to have to look for another one again.

He didn’t say a word as he approached Sebastian, his mind running through a dozen suitable punishments. Death was the obvious one, and it might come to that someday, but was Jim ready to throw away his best weapon because of a cigarette?

More importantly did he want to do it when, along with being a superb weapon, Sebastian could take whatever Jim dished out in bed, and come back asking for more?

The thought irritated Jim and he had his gun out when he reached Sebastian. The mere fact that he was asking himself the question meant that Sebastian was a weakness he couldn’t afford to keep. He pressed the muzzle at the back of his head. The safety was already off. Sebastian froze for a few seconds, then, in a very deliberate gesture, slowly brought the cigarette back to his lips and drew in a long breath.

Jim pressed the gun a little harder against the sandy hair Sebastian kept shorter than Jim would have wished—not that he’d ever voice something so ridiculous.

“Moran,” he said in a low voice. “Did you wake up with a death wish this morning?”

Sebastian blew out a plume of smoke that dissipated instantly in the early afternoon air.

“Not any more than usual,” he drawled. “But I did wake up in an empty bed.”

The statement left Jim nonplussed. Sebastian didn’t sleep over all that often, and when he did, it was a very rare occurrence that he woke up before Jim. What had he expected? Morning cuddles? As if they did any such thing, it really wasn’t their—

Jim blinked as the puzzle pieces clicked together.

“You didn’t honestly expect…” He sputtered. “You thought that because today…”

The idea was so damn ridiculous he couldn’t even bear voicing it.

“We went to Paris, last year,” Sebastian said dully. “’T was nice.”

“We went to Paris for _business_!”

Incensed, Jim struck, swinging the butt of the gun at Sebastian’s temple. Under the strength of the blow, or maybe taken by surprise, Sebastian staggered and fell sideways, immediately pushing himself to his knees and facing Jim.

“Pick it up!” Jim barked, waving the gun at the half-smoked cigarette now resting on his bamboo flooring.

Sebastian dutifully picked it up, and for a second Jim considered telling him to put it out against his own skin. A better idea burst to life. Holstering the gun, he smiled. Sebastian’s eyes widened and his Adam’s apple jumped. Wary. So, he wasn’t so stupid after all.

“Your left hand,” Jim demanded, and Sebastian immediately offered it to him. Jim turned it, palm up, exposing the tender flesh of the wrist where two blood vessels stood, faint blue lines against pale white. “Take a deep drag on that cigarette then give it to me.”

Understanding filled Sebastian’s eyes, but no fear, no pleading, no excuses. His right hand wasn’t even shaking when he brought the cigarette back to his lips and pulled in, hard, as much as his lungs would allow. When he held out the cigarette to Jim, the tip was still glowing brightly red. Without a second of hesitation, Jim tightened his fingers over Sebastian’s to make sure he wouldn’t move and pressed the burning tip to the inside of his wrist, where hand and arm met.

Sebastian gasped, but for the full five seconds that Jim held the cigarette there, he didn’t try to pull away. He blinked multiple times but didn’t break free from Jim’s gaze any more than he did from his grip. The smell of burning skin rose between them, mixing with the smell of smoke.

“Is this want you wanted?” Jim crooned, mocking, as he finally lifted the cigarette off Sebastian’s skin and released him. “A sweet gesture from your lover? A new memory to cherish? Paris is a long way away, but this… this will stay with you, Tiger.”

Very slowly, Sebastian got to his feet. He held his wrist in front of him, and the faintest smile touched his lips as he looked at it, his eyes darker than dried blood.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little raw. “Yeah, it will.”

Observing him closely, Jim narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to one side. He could almost think…

Without warning, he grabbed Sebastian’s crotch and squeezed the hard-on he found there. Oh.

 _Oh._ All right, then.

“Liked that, did you, Moran?” he all but purred.

Sebastian shrugged one shoulder and didn’t even try to deny it.

“Strip.”

It took Sebastian nine seconds to comply—and then, only because he almost face-planted tugging off his jeans and had to right himself. A battered pack of cigarettes fell from the back pocket of his jeans. Jim removed his suit jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves before picking up the pack and looking in. It was almost full, a cheap lighter crammed in with the cigarettes. Quite enough for what he had in mind.

“I’m going to give you a choice,” he said, giving Sebastian his most savage grin. “One random spot on your body for each cigarette in that pack, or all of them right next to each other on your wrist until there’s a J there that’ll never go away.”

For all response, Sebastian took the pack from Jim, pulled out a cigarette, stuck it between his lips and lit it, holding Jim’s gaze the entire time. He took a deep drag and offered his wrist back to Jim before handing him the glowing cigarette.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Boss.”

Jim laughed and got to work.


End file.
